


walk on water

by belikebumblebee



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:41:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25386244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belikebumblebee/pseuds/belikebumblebee
Summary: the crash of the waves in the dark, a soft breeze, and a funny little feeling. beau keeps watch.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 10
Kudos: 130





	walk on water

**Author's Note:**

> it's been a whiiiiile....

as a general rule, the ocean is fucking terrifying in the dark. when they're on the balleater, beau prefers to go to sleep pretending that the world begins and ends with the creaking wood of their ship. surrounded by cold, unknowable night that may decide to try and shake and swallow them while they can't even distinguish the water from the horizon? no, thank you. she's okay with dealing with that problem when they get to it -- which eventually, they probably will, but beau is hoping that fjord will just cast water-breathing on all of them and it'll be fine. 

but even from where they're sitting now, perched atop a cliff in their little hut, the sounds of the water hitting the rocks below makes her feel uneasy. uneasy, and something else. something velvety and fluttery in the pit of her stomach. 

or maybe that one has nothing to do with the water, and more to do with the ghost of yasha on her skin. it's been days, and at first, it was thrilling -- the quick rush of adrenaline, the hard surge of the fall. but when it gets too quiet, the way she remembers yasha's arms around her crowds her. the steady rock of her steps, or the tickle of her hair -- it's just… a lot. 

and now here she is; veth fell asleep twenty minutes into their shared watch, leaving beau to her own thoughts and the crash of the waves below. 

beau tries to look at all of them the same way; she really does. 

she makes herself spend some time studying fjord's features: the stubble on his chin, the curve of his ear, how the green of his skin becomes a little brighter on the insides of his hands. he frowns in his sleep, and his fingers curl. beau looks at him until she's sure she could form his likeness from clay, and then moves on. 

caduceus sleeps like a fucking weirdo. smack bang in the middle of all of them, he lies straight as a rod on his back, with his hands clasped on his stomach. his breathing is soft and even, and beau counts until his chest has risen sixty times before she looks away. 

caleb is the hardest to spend this much time looking at, because there is nothing to see. he has curled up into a ball, his face hidden in the crook of his arm, and the only thing beau can really look at are the soles of his shoes. which are in fucking terrible shape; he should really get himself some new ones. or at least wear the fancy boots jester got him. 

oh, fuck it. she cheats and looks at jester instead. closest to the embers of their fire as usual, jester sleeps with her arms making a loop for sprinkle to curl up in. the two of them sleep nose to nose, and it's fucking adorable. beau breathes through waves of affection that suddenly roll over her; she can't help but puff out her chest a little bit. jester is so precious and brilliant, and none of them really deserve her. if the traveler turns out to be an asshole, beau has long since vowed to herself she's gonna kick his culty ass. 

not that she's gonna be alone in that. 

her gaze falls to veth, and she's not gonna lie -- it's always a little shock to see her at first. she knows that she's the same person, but beau has gotten so used to the scaly skin and the many teeth, that seeing her as veth in their midst still triggers her intruder alert a little bit. but then she sees her button necklace, and her yellow sundress that is torn in places now, and the way she bares her teeth in her sleep -- and yeah, she knows her. they'll be fine. 

in a few moments, she'll be looking at yasha, and there won't be anything weird about it, because she's staring at all her friends equally, like a cool person. 

except when she turns her head where it's resting on her drawn up knees, she finds yasha is already looking at her; one eye in shadow, the other, her purple eye, lit up by the dying fire. 

caught, beau flinches, and immediately tries to hide it in a fake sneeze that only makes her feel more ridiculous.

"you're staring at me," she murmurs. she crosses her arms on top of her knees and half-buries her face in her elbow. "can't sleep?"

"woke up." yasha's voice is rough with sleep. "dreams."

beau thinks of the haze of purple, thunder, and crescent moons she stumbles through sometimes, of the red eyes, of drowning and a house full of jade. she nods. "you okay?"

yasha's eyes are still on her. she's like the ocean, a little bit: during the day, she's familiar and tempting, with a tart scent of storm and adventure. a glittering challenge. but at night, her quiet presence is overwhelming. at night, beau can't tell where their wordplay stops and a real fucking conversation that she might not be ready for might lurk. 

"i'm okay," yasha tells her. beau can feel herself stiffen in response to how soft she sounds, her muscles shifting around that velvety feeling inside of her. 

"you should try and catch some more sleep. it'll be a long trek tomorrow." 

"yeah." when yasha doesn't move, beau can see the sick, cold afterglow that twisted dreams sometimes leave in the way her breath comes forced and slow. there is an arch to her eyebrows that is not always there. it's strange, how easy to read her face has become, despite everything. 

and maybe the ocean isn't so scary after all; maybe it's a body of water the way it always is. maybe, when yasha needs her to, she can walk on water. 

beau's body folds open like a flower, and after a quick glance to make sure no one's looking, she pats her thigh.

"come here." right above the knee, and casual, like it's hardly even a part of her body. like all she's offering is a pillow. "if you want, i mean." and then, before she can talk herself out of it, she adds: "i could protect you."

it's nothing she wouldn't also do for jester, she tells herself, pointedly pretending like she hasn't thought about kissing jester a couple of times, too. fuck, she needs to get a grip.

for a beat, nothing happens, and then yasha silently rolls over and shifts; shifts until the weight of her head tentatively settles on beau's leg.

"i know you could, beau." it comes out sounding strangled, like yasha's heart is beating in her throat. 

it makes beau feel brave enough for both of them, somehow. she smiles, picking up a black strand of hair, runs her fingers along it to where it turns white at the tips. 

"i got you, yasha. you can go back to sleep."

yasha closes her eyes, allows beau to run her fingers through her hair. it's something to do. 

beau almost doesn't feel the yawning abyss of the ocean beyond the cliff's edge anymore, when yasha speaks again, half-gone. "i like you, you know? really like you.

way, way below, the waves of the dark ocean slap against the shore as they do night and day. 

her hands full of yasha's soft hair, beau stills, wrapped in velvet.


End file.
